First Impressions
by Weavillain
Summary: Bayley never thought she'd encounter Chris Jericho like this. Chris Jericho never thought he'd deprive himself of the elation of adding to The List. (Hell in a Cell 2016 backstage fic)


Hell in a Cell was underway in Boston, MA. WWE PPV's were often called historic all the time, almost to the point where the word lost meaning. Tonight, however, truly was an event that was advertised as groundbreaking and for a very good reason. The crowd was already on fire from seeing Roman Reigns retaining his United States Championship against Rusev but there was still more to come.

The backstage area wasn't as hectic as the wild audience but there was still enough bustling from various people to illustrate the sense of urgency towards Hell in a Cell going off without a hitch. Among that crowd of technical supporters were a few superstars who, despite not being booked for tonight's event, were still expected to show up, just in case they were needed for something.

Bayley, one of the most popular women on RAW, was no exception to that code of conduct, despite the fact that she had just finished her match with Dana Brooke. Unlike most of her peers, however, she had a goal in mind beyond lounging around, which was the reason she was presently weaving past nameless faces to reach her destination.

It had been nearly two months since Bayley made her debut on Monday Night RAW and she still couldn't help but feel as if she was experiencing the same elation and sense of achievement every day of her life since. She was walking on cloud nine and had no intention of stepping off for anything, no matter what obstacle got in her way.

Bayley was no fool, though. She had experienced the same rookie jitters when she earned a spot in NXT and was naïve enough to believe that because she respected the business and tried to give out as much love and respect as she could, that her fellow superstars-in-training would reciprocate that very same treatment to her. She was proven wrong and the realization of the cutthroat backstage environment had startled her and deterred her from reaching her potential at first but thankfully for her, a rough beginning did not mean the same as a rough ending in her NXT tenure. Through many trials and tribulations, Bayley learned what it meant to reach her goals while not compromising who she was and removing any trace of fear and doubt that others would try and ingrain in her psyche.

To her slight amusement, just like clockwork, she found herself being the brunt of nasty gossip and insults as soon as she set foot in the unfamiliar territory of the flagship show, with Dana Brooke and Charlotte Flair being her most noteworthy and transparent antagonists. This time, however, she was determined not to be rattled. By now, she was used to being brushed aside as a childish goofball that didn't know what it took to be a champion but she proved her doubters wrong last year in Brooklyn, when she defeated Sasha Banks for the NXT Women's Championship and planned to repeat that brand of success again.

Speaking of Sasha Banks, she was half the reason for Bayley's current trip to the RAW Women's locker room. The other half happened to be her opponent in Charlotte Flair. Like she learned the hard way in NXT, she realized that friends were far and few between but tonight, the RAW women were united in camaraderie as they all had one common goal in mind: sitting in the back to watch history take place as for the first time in WWE history, women would main event a WWE PPV. Not only that, it would take place inside the hellacious Hell in a Cell structure.

Bayley shuddered at the thought of being enclosed within the cold, unforgiving instrument of devastation herself. RAW General Manger Mick Foley was a constant reminder of what being a part of that match could do to both one's physical and mental state. To supplement her rational anxiety, she had grown up watching more than her fair share of bloody, brutal Hell in a Cell matches and knew exactly what sort of destruction would be in store for both Banks and Charlotte. Those were the reasons why, despite not being on the best of terms with Charlotte, she had enough respect for her for going through with such an ordeal and not backing down.

Unfortunately, because of her wandering mind, she wasn't paying attention to where she was going and carelessly bumped into someone, causing that person to yelp out in surprise as they were jostled by the impact of their collision. Whoever it was towered significantly over her because Bayley was knocked back onto the floor, landing sharply on her butt.

"Oof!" she exclaimed as pain shot up to her tailbone and settled in her lower back. She wasn't going to allow her discomfort to deter her from making amends, however, and slowly but surely got to her feet, thankful that whoever she had just run into hadn't run off in frustration. She slightly bent her spine to ease the pain before she confessed her wrongdoing.

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I hope I didn't hurt…"

The words she had planned to say were immediately stuck in her throat as the gravity of the situation began to dawn on her. She expected her "victim" to be some random backstage worker, hustling about to set up catering or work on sound equipment. But with all her years watching wrestling at home, she knew that the man standing before her was not such a man. If the duffel bag slung around his shoulder wasn't a good indication on who he was, then the scarf wrapped around his neck certainly did the trick.

"…you."

There, growling in irritation and muttering to himself, was none other than Chris Jericho, a wrestler whom she and plenty of people know deserved the label as an icon. Of course, it was no secret that Chris Jericho wasn't a fan of anyone on RAW not named Kevin Owens but regardless, despite knowing what a huge jerk he was, Bayley hoped that one day, someone of Jericho's stature would acknowledge her as a wrester worth respect. Unlike the Bayley of old, though, she wouldn't act blindly clingy or spend every waking moment dreaming about it. She'd wait for it to happen naturally.

To her dismay, though, she realized that not only would bumping into people do nothing towards making a good first impression but causing them to knock whatever beverage they had in their hand, onto their person, would only supplement a foul mood.

She gasped when she took a good look at what Jericho was now holding in his hand, his beloved scarf, which was obviously drenched in the liquid that Bayley had accidentally jostled out of his grip. That realization, along with Jericho's piercing, scathing glare at her, shook her out of her haze of awe and dread and drove her to start spilling forth an apology that was more frantic than the one she originally had in mind.

"Oh my gosh! I-I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Jericho! A-are you okay?!" Bayley stammered, doing her best to look Jericho in the eye but grew more and more jittery at the fact that his intense stare hadn't faltered in the slightest, not a trace of compassion in it whatsoever.

He must have seen her try and say more words because the second a syllable fumbled timidly from Bayley's mouth, Jericho hurriedly put his free hand up in front of her face, effectively silencing her. Looking back down at his ruined scarf and snarling once more, he quickly shoved it in her line of vision, making sure that she saw the damage that she had done.

Because of the drenched wool being so close to her nostrils, Bayley could guess that she had spilled tea into the fabric.

"Do you…have any idea…what you've just done?" Jericho barked through gritted teeth. Bayley had expected yelling but was still trembling slightly at the ire that was clearly kindling at his very core.

Bayley swallowed the lump in her throat before she timidly replied, "Well, uh, yes b-but I didn't mean to bump into you. I swear! I was-"

"Pashmina," Jericho was in no mood to hear more of Bayley's apprehensive words, especially if they were going to form what he thought was a flimsy, pathetic excuse of an apology. "Do you even know what that word means? I doubt it because you look like you just stepped off the bus to go on an elementary school field trip but if you did, you'd realize just how badly you messed up," Jericho spat out with venom befitting that of a king cobra.

He dropped his duffel bag onto the ground, not caring to place it down gently, all while keeping his eyes on Bayley.

"This seven hundred fifty dollar pashmina scarf," The look of astonishment on Bayley's face from the projected price amount only served to infuriate Jericho further, "Yes! This seven hundred fifty dollar pashmina scarf is more iconic than everyone in that locker room, including you! Forget Ric Flair's robe! Forget Jimmy Hart's megaphone! What you just desecrated is the greatest piece of wrestling memorabilia of all time and it's all because you can't watch where you're going!"

Being insulted was nothing new. Bayley had endured constant teasing and tormenting from some of the vilest of vixens in the locker room but at least back then, she could take solace in the fact that they were just trying to rattle her cage and put her down to bolster their self-esteem.

This time, there was genuine provocation from her part at play. She was to blame. She had caused this incident. She couldn't fault anyone but herself and that, combined with the fact that a legend that she idolized in her childhood, was chewing her out for being a klutz, was enough for Bayley not to fight back, despite there being an argument that Jericho was being hostile and indignant just for the sake of it.

"Did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, important people, like yours truly, actually want to look presentable on national television? Huh? Just because you want to stroll out there, in front of an audience, full of millennials and airheaded teeny boppers, and look like a corny after school PSA, doesn't mean you get to make me look as ridiculous as you!"

"I, um, I-I mean-" Bayley meekly stuttered, doing her best to keep her composure but utterly failing as Jericho continued his verbal assault.

"I swear, if it's not moron fans trying to get a lock of my hair when I'm at the airport, it's you entitled NXT alumni walking around like you own the place! I did not cut my teeth in Canada for all those years, cement myself as the greatest Cruiserweight in WCW history, and become the first Undisputed Champion in WWE history just to be disrespected by the likes of you!"

She couldn't help it. That was enough for the dam of her emotions to crack and to her shame, tears began to trickle down her eyes. She was thankful for the fact that no one else was around to see this display but it did nothing to comfort her entirely.

"I hope you know what this means," Jericho grimly uttered, bending down to the duffel bag he had dropped earlier while placing his scarf on the ground next to it. Unzipping it in a flash, she watched in dismay as two familiar items were drawn out; a pen and a clipboard.

"Oh no," Bayley said lowly without thinking, eyes widening in panic as Jericho began flipping through all the paper that the clipboard held in place, apparently looking for a clean sheet he could write on. With a resounding click, the point of the pen was now ready to use.

"Oh yes! You brought this upon yourself and you only have yourself to blame for what I'm about to do!" Jericho loudly announced, the hand that the pen held poised high in the air, ready to scribble down what Bayley knew was going to be her name.

If that happened, Bayley was sure that Jericho would never respect her. Despite his less than friendly disposition, Bayley knew that his name held a lot of weight and getting a pat on the back from him would be a badge of honor.

"Bayley," Jericho announced with dramatic flair, lowering his pen hand towards the clipboard, ready to inscribe yet another name on infamous list. He made sure to look at Bayley's face to capture her distraught expression in as much detail as he could before shifting his eyes back to the task at hand.

"YOU JUST MADE THE…"

Before pen could meet with paper, a soft sniffling sound stopped him in his tracks. He knew it was coming from Bayley. Through his ranting and raving, he briefly remembered seeing tears on Bayley's face but barely paid it any mind. He knew she had to pay and this was the only way he knew how.

Despite morbid curiosity stirring him on to take a look at her weeping visage, there was a kernel of regret that he feared would begin to grow if he actually saw her. Steeling his nerves, he looked over at the paper again, descending the pen closer to his objective.

"The…the…uhhhhh…"

His curiosity won out and before he could go through with his plans, he took a quick glance at the woman in front of him and did a double take after he intitally looked away.

Her puffy eyes. Her quivering bottom lip. Her hands wringing in anxiety. Her head slightly bowed. Chris Jericho reluctantly admitted to himself that out of anyone he planned on putting on "The List", Bayley's reaction was certainly the most…interesting. Most people would either sneer or look on apathetically at the thought of being included in Jericho's list of derision.

Not Bayley, though. She looked absolutely crushed. Almost like a kid who let go of his balloon and watched helplessly as it floated beyond their reach. Or a scolded puppy that got talked down to for peeing on the carpet. And much like a puppy, Jericho found the sight in front of him…kinda cute. Too cute to not be let off without a warning.

At least just this one time.

"You know what? Fine." Sighing, Jericho stashed the clipboard and pen back in his duffel bag and looked back at Bayley, who still had her eyes glued to the floor. "Just this once, I'll forget this little incident ever happened. Just don't let it happen again and make sure no one knows about this. You got that?"

"Really?" Bayley answered back as she looked up at Jericho, not believing what her ears had just picked up. Was he letting her off the hook?

As if he had just read her mind, Jericho rolled his eyes and groused, "Yes, really," he confirmed with only a twinge of vexation left in his voice.

Squealing, Bayley closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around Jericho in a hug. Jericho himself was stunned by the fact that he didn't immediately shove her off but was slowly but surely being enveloped by a warm, fuzzy feeling in his gut that he couldn't call unpleasant. Not even the thought of someone walking by and seeing them could force him to end the embrace.

"Thank you, Mr. Jericho! You have no idea how happy that makes me!" Bayley chirped, keeping her iron grip around Jericho's waist.

Thankfully, her head was against his chest so Jericho wouldn't have to worry about her looking at the small, warm smile on his face. Before he realized what he was doing, he reached forward and began stroking the top of her head, his fingers threading through her silky hair and…

No. This HAD to end. Now. He may have let Bayley off the hook but there was no way he could let her assume that this sort of behavior would be allowed, especially in public. The last thing he needed was for anyone, chiefly Kevin Owens, to catch on to the fact that he had a soft spot for the resident hugger.

Firmly separating themselves with a slight shove, Jericho animatedly started brushing himself all over, his face scrunched up in feign disgust.

"Alright, alright, that's enough hugging! Now be off with you before I change my mind!"

"Yes, sir," Bayley dutifully responded and hurried along her way, looking back at Jericho to wave goodbye before she disappeared out of his sight.

As if there was an actual audience, watching the entire debacle go down, Jericho punctuated his faux indignation with him mumbling "stupid idiot" under his breath as he reached down for his duffel bag.

 **A/N:** Finally, my first fanfic in new territory. Of course, wrestling is really nothing new to me, seeing as I've been a fan since I was four but still, I was always conflicted on how to write these stories. To kayfabe or not to kayfabe. That…was the question. I've seen it written well in both sense but then again, keeping up their personas is way too much fun to pass up on. Besides, tsundere Jericho is the best Jericho, amitire?


End file.
